


Wee

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 05:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18772327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Lindir and Elrond have tall people problems in Bywater.





	Wee

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He has to duck to go through the doorway, and then he straightens out again on instinct, only to bump his head against the frighteningly low ceiling. Lindir grits his teeth and hisses, suppressing the dull twinge of pain that he’s experienced over and over again since arriving in the Shire. From the corner of the room, Elrond chides, “Be careful.”

It’s a little too late, but Lindir nods, telling himself he’ll learn. He won’t do it again. He shuts the door behind himself and walks over to the bed with great care, shoulders hunched and back bent. It can’t at all be good for his posture. It’s strange to see his lord similarly cowed. For once, Lindir doesn’t go to him and offer to help with his undressing. Elrond’s movements are uncharacteristically quick and jerky, the process now a simple necessity rather than their usual intimate ritual. Lindir does the same, swiftly shedding his outer robes and stripping down to the thin white undergarments beneath. Elrond is the first to finish, and thus he’s the first to crawl under the covers of their comically short bed. At least when he’s sitting, he doesn’t have to cower—he can lean back against the headboard, again tall and proud.

Seeing Elrond stripped down to only a nearly sheer, flimsy piece of fabric always gets Lindir going. He hurries out of his clothes even faster, more than ready to join his lover on the tiny single mattress. After kneeling down to unlace his sandals, Lindir pulls back up, once again knocking his head against the ceiling.

He winces and whines, disappointed in himself and so fed up with the Green Dragon Inn. Bilbo had promised it was slightly bigger than Bag End, but Lindir can’t imagine how that’s true. If it is, he isn’t looking forward to staying there tomorrow night. At least he has his beloved lord, who makes a sympathetic noise and ushers him onto the bed. 

This journey hasn’t been the most relaxing for Lindir. The land itself is a quaint one, the people seemingly peaceful, but they drink like dwarves and sing just as bad, and _nothing_ fits. Worse still, they don’t seem to recognize the gem amongst them: how grand and thoroughly _above them_ Lord Elrond truly is. Lord Elrond hasn’t seemed to mind it much, but Lindir’s more than happy to retire for the night and join Elrond under the covers. Shuffling the blankets back and perching delicately in Elrond’s lap is the most fun Lindir’s had in days. Elrond smiles at his choice of seat, and Lindir presses a needy kiss against that mild grin. 

Elrond’s arms automatically encircle him. All at once, Lindir’s _happy_ again, because it’s impossible to be anything but delighted when in his lord’s embrace. He dares to part his lips, touching his tongue to Elrond’s mouth, and Elrond opens up enough to gently draw Lindir inside. Lindir moans as Elrond suckles on his tongue, strokes his back and even traces down his hips, sliding along his rear and over his thigh. Lindir’s dress is already rolled up across his legs, so it’s easy for Elrond to slip one hand below. Lindir’s breath hitches as Elrond’s tongue and fingers delve deeper, warming Lindir to his very core.

Suddenly desperate, Lindir increases the pressure. He kisses Elrond _harder_ , his fingers sliding into Elrond’s hair, and he bucks his hips forward to grind against Elrond’s stomach. He rubs them together, driving Elrond back against the headboard, and Lindir reaches back to guide both of Elrond’s hands towards his backside, because he very much wants his lord _inside him_ —

The bed groans sharply, and Lindir freezes. 

He cautiously pulls back. Elrond glances down, frowning at the furniture, but it’s fallen silent. Thus Lindir decides to try another kiss. He’s just barely gotten in that kiss when the bed whines like it’s dying. 

Lindir doesn’t want to take that chance. As uncouth as the Halflings can be, he’d be mortified if he broke their furniture. He spends most of his days attending Elrond’s guests, and he thoroughly intends to be a good guest in return. As much as it pains him, he crawls off Elrond’s lap, sliding back to his feet. He’s finally careful not to stand up all the way. 

He decides aloud, “Perhaps it might be best if I were to sleep on the floor.”

Elrond lifts a brow and insists, “Nonsense. You weigh little more than a dove; I am quite sure the bed can take you.”

Lindir doesn’t want to risk it. And when he really looks at it, the bed is far too squished anyway—he’d have to sleep curled up so as to not have his legs sticking out over the end. 

Elrond takes in Lindir’s silence and sighs, “Very well. We will sleep on the floor.”

“There is no need, my lord, surely it can take the weight of one—”

“I have waited some time now to have you alone in a private room, and I have no intention of sleeping apart from you now.”

Lindir tries to suppress his smile and doesn’t protest again. Instead, he stands aside as Elrond effectively rids the bed of its sheets and relocates them to the floor. He puts the blankets on the bottom, then sits on top, one hand raised for Lindir to take. He does. He allows his lord to draw him down, and they sit together on the mess of foreign linens in the low light of the inn room, the sky dark but twinkling beyond the rounded windows. 

The floor is so much harder than Lindir’s used to. It’s left them without blankets to throw overtop themselves. Their sleep couldn’t possibly be comfortable, but it doesn’t matter, because Lindir could be happy anywhere if Elrond were next to him. Elrond leans in to give him another a kiss, and they try again.


End file.
